


Be Mine

by wordplay



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-14
Updated: 2011-04-10
Packaged: 2017-10-17 18:56:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/180138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wordplay/pseuds/wordplay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Valentine's Day 2012, character-study-ish. "How do you say, on a high-schoolers budget no less, all of: (a) this year is different, <i>we</i> are different, I will never leave you hanging like that; (b) please please please let me suck your brains out of your dick, I want you in my mouth right now and all the time; and (c) I'm in love with you, you are my first love, thank you for letting me be yours."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Be Mine

**Author's Note:**

> [](http://aelora.livejournal.com/profile)[**aelora**](http://aelora.livejournal.com/) asked for fluffy Klaine Valentine's commentfic. It started honestly enough and ended up at 2000 words. Unbetaed, because that would defeat the purpose of commentfic! Which this totally is! Happy Valentine's Day! ♥
> 
> Originally posted [here](http://community.livejournal.com/kurt_blaine/784210.html).

Kurt had been aware of Valentine's Day looming for a while; when the mall finished clearing away the last of their after-Christmas sales (a sad, sad day - he'd marked it with a completely black ensemble, and had been grateful he was back at McKinley so he could adequately express the depth of his _completely serious mourning, okay?_ ) they immediately filled the newly-emptied shelves with all _kinds_ of pink and purple and garishly-red frippery. And, look, Kurt _liked_ color, he really did, but the nearly monochromatic explosion of Valentine's Day was just _embarrassing_ , and without at least a little grey to tone it down, it was just... unthinkably unflattering.

And it didn't help that Valentine's Day was a day just _fraught_ for him - for him and Blaine together, actually. He'd always been slightly cynical about it; surrounded by New Directions' revolving door of couples, he'd never been able to take it seriously. If people could fall in and out of love as quickly as the people around him seemed to, he didn't see the point in making a big declaration in February, only to be expressing equally fervent feelings for somebody else by spring break. Last Valentine's Day had been a roller coaster of emotion - first a sudden softening toward the idea of the holiday; then a crushing heartbreak in _the Gap_ , of all places; and finally a gentle detente, a gradual ease with the idea that maybe confessing your feelings, making all of those secret hopes public, wasn't necessarily as soul-crushing as he had feared. By the time he'd managed to tell Blaine about his own richly romantic fantasies, all of the Valentines' merchandise had been marked down to move, but it didn't cheapen his own confessions. By the time they'd been singing at their own Lonely Hearts dinner, he was more free, easier in the knowledge that his heart was out there, that he didn't have to keep it bottled up all the time.

So it's fair to say that by the time the first week of February rolled around, Kurt was feeling some pressure to get this one right. Blaine had been his boyfriend since the end of May, and although the slow slide of it had been completely unexpected (he'd watched enough porn to cultivate a truly filthy imagination, he now realized, and just because he wanted to jump the hell out of Blaine's bones pretty much every time he saw him, that didn't mean it was a good idea - or even that he really knew _how_ ), it had been just _amazing_ to get to know this new side of him. Kurt knew he blushed, knew that his skin colored easily from either embarrassment or pressure, so that sometimes he was blushing over the sweet, mouth-shaped bruises Blaine had left on his neck or his collarbone. But it had been a glorious discovery that he could affect Blaine the same way, that bruises against his darker skin looked more intensely sexual, that when they were going at it hot-and-heavy in a car, a theatre, a darkened closet, in somebody's bedroom or on a porch or _wherever_ they managed to get it on, that Blaine's skin flushed from the rush of blood, from all the excitement and (he could never say it, but he thought it all the time) from the _passion_.

They hadn't gone all the way yet - sure, there had been plenty of handjobs, a simple progression from making out to rutting against each other to full-on, coming-in-your-pants frottage to ok-this-is-ridiculous-can-you-just-pull-it-out kind of fumbling. And they had both become fond of licking the come off of each other's hands. It was just easier than fumbling in the glove compartment for spare napkins, for one thing, but also, the first time Kurt had tried it, had tentatively reached out a tongue just to see, Blaine's eyes had darkened and they'd ended up with his hand inside _both_ of their mouths, fingers and tongues everywhere and it might not be much cleaner than the stupid, sticky paper napkins, but it was certainly a hell of a lot hotter.

But Kurt was ready - he was ready for more. Specifically, he wanted two things: naked time, and Blaine's dick in his mouth. He wasn't picky about the order, but - yes, sometime soon. Hence, Valentine's Day. He wasn't sure, but he was pretty sure that I-love-you-now-let-me-suck-your-cock was pretty much the subtext for the entire holiday. I mean, maybe that was just him, right now, at this stage in his life. But there were a _whole, whole lot_ of heart-shaped suckers next to the registers at Target, so he was pretty sure he wasn't just projecting.

The thing was, though... well, there was a lot going on there. Because it hasn't just been all about their bodies - no no no, they were actually falling kind of stupid-in-love with each other. If he'd been a different person, if he'd been Mercedes, he would have talked about this as some kind of god-mandated _soul connection_ , but as it was, he really couldn't explain it. He just knew that he knew a different Blaine this year than he did last year, that he understood his awkwardness and his kindness and his overarching, incredibly strong desire to be a good person, to be liked, to be _worthy_. They'd met each others' parents, they'd celebrated the holidays together, and watching the Christmas lights play in Blaine's shiny, shiny hair had made his heart swell and made him wish for scary things, like _commitment_ and _permanence_ and _forever_. Which was ridiculous, he knew that, and it was part of why he had made his New Year's resolution to get Blaine to stop using so much product in his hair, because the reflections clearly made him stupid, and the fumes couldn't be helping.

All of which meant that when it came to Valentine's Day, and properly expressing his feelings for Blaine on this holiday that Blaine had once loved, he was kind of completely screwed. Because how do you say, on a high-schoolers budget no less, all of: (a) this year is different, _we_ are different, I will never leave you hanging like that; (b) please please please let me suck your brains out of your dick, I want you in my mouth right now and all the time; and (c) I'm in love with you, you are my first love, thank you for letting me be yours. This was not puppies-rubbing-noses-on-a-creepy-musical-pillow kind of stuff; Hallmark didn't make a card like that.

And this, _all of this_ , is why Kurt found himself miserable at the mall for the first time in his life. _What the fuck, Blaine?!_

So he sat in the food court, nursing a diet coke, and he wrote those three points out on a spare page in his notebook, (well, sort of; it just said POINT A, POINT B, AND POINT C, because there were other McKinley kids around, and all he needed was somebody stealing his notebook to be a smartass and then calling him Kurt-the-cock-sucker for another month. Again.) and he considered. OK, really, points (a) and (c) could be collapsed. They were the same thing, really - they were about devotion and affection and not just sweetness but also durability, connection, who they were and who they are going to be. Ultimately, that one was easy - he wrote "travel mug from the Lima Bean" next to it, because he was pretty sure he could find one that was just a simple fuschia or magenta, with the logo presented tastefully on the side, and he knew that Blaine would get it - that as many times as they had been in there, he would remember his affection and subsequent distaste for their Valentine's Day display, and Kurt could say something about how this cup was built to last, and it would be sweet but not saccharine, and he would get it.

Which just left (b), and that was a problem. He had lots of ideas, all of them completely stupid: A gift certificate for a blow job? God, what if his dad found it on the printer? Flavored lube? That would require him going into Spencer Gifts, and, just, _no_. Red silk boxer shorts? What, were they _thirty_? It was already the 10th, which meant it was too late to count on the internet to get something to his house in time. This was going to have to be something he could find in Lima, which (years of experience could tell him) was not exactly the blow job capital of America. Lost - he was well and truly lost.

He gave up and wandered the mall for inspiration, and by the time he slumped out of there he was experiencing a whole new level of anxiety - not only was he no closer to the answer, but _his mall-fu was gone_ , and now he felt betrayed as well as inadequate. He drove dejected to his favorite new Lima Bean, the big one in front of the Target with all the couches upstairs, and after finding the perfect mug as a gift (fuschia it was, with a handle, even) and slipping a gift card inside (enough for a mocha, a drip coffee, and a few of the biscotti that Blaine loved) he took up a spot in the loft to sip his own coffee and stare some more at his list.

His mind wandered as he sat there, his abandoned list sitting on his lap as he gazed out the windows at the Target Superstore. He was going back to basics, breaking it down, and finally it became a little more clear in his head. The thing that he had come to actually _like_ about Valentine's Day, the whole _point of the fucking exercise_ , was that it was a time to say all the things you might not think to say otherwise, to just get it all out there so that everybody felt a little more secure, a little more connected. He'd been angsting for _hours_ over how to ask his boyfriend if he could just wrap his mouth around him, and he was sitting here in a coffee shop drinking the same thing he had been after a conversation in which he'd finally just let it go, when he had finally let himself say the things he'd been thinking. He remembered saying to Blaine, in a coffee shop just like this one all the way across town, "we've always been completely honest with each other," and that hadn't changed - _none_ of it had.

If they hadn't had that conversation, if he'd never found the courage to tell Blaine what he had thought, and implied what he wanted, they might never have found their way to where they are now. And here he was, freaking out because he wanted to say something he couldn't find the words for, when all that had ever done for him before was keep him locked up inside himself, waiting and wishing for somebody to come along with the key.

So, you know, _screw that_. He suddenly stood, energized with new resolve, and shoved his notebook and Blaine's mug into his bag. When he straightened and caught sight of the Target, _right there outside the damn window_ , he realized that a bouquet of heart-shaped suckers would look _amazing_ bursting out of the top of Blaine's mug. And if the sight of Kurt's mouth wrapped around one of those shiny candies inspired Blaine in new ways, made him more receptive to Kurt's proposal - well, all the better.


	2. Traditional Gifts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little equal-time character study for Blaine, a Valentine's Day gift exchange, plus Kurt finally asking the question of the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally posted [here](http://community.livejournal.com/kurt_blaine/788096.html). Although technically written as two stand-alones, I've collapsed them into chapters for archival here.
> 
> Fine, fine. You people got your blowjob. THE THINGS I DO FOR YOU. MY LIFE IS SO HARD. ;-) Inspired, at least in part, by the OUT photo spread. Because, my god, who _wouldn't_ be? Unbeta-ed because when you turn out 5500 words in 6 hours, it would be cruel to ask somebody else to go along for the ride. ♥ ♥ ♥ to this community, who can turn out over 1000 comments on the subject of Darren Criss's abs. ♥ ♥ ♥

Valentine's Day was a Tuesday, and so while he and Kurt were getting together later that night, Blaine had some time after school and glee to wrap Kurt's gift and generally just moon like... well, like the lovesick teenager he was, he supposed. It was quiet in the house, and he hadn't turned on any music - he just wanted to sit and think about how much could change in a year.

A year ago, he'd been so sure he was in love with Jeremiah. His mom's demands that he go buy new jeans, _now_ had led to a crush had led to coffee had led to devotion had led to the most _brutally humiliating experience of his life_. But before all that, before Jeremiah had patted him on the shoulder and effortlessly brushed off his gift of a song, he had been _so excited_ at where he was sure this was going. There had been boys he had liked before, of course, but Jeremiah had been older, _in college_ , and he had hoped and dreamed of going places with him that he could really only imagine. In his head it had been all soft focus romance: cups of coffee in the last of the winter, long walks in the park through spring, sunscreen on his back in the summertime. He had imagined kisses in his dorm room, and much much more.

When he tried to put himself back in that frame of mind now, tried to remember Jeremiah's face and the way it had seemed endlessly fascinating and the things he thought he'd seen in it, the promise it seemed to hold, he was embarrassed all over again. Jeremiah's reaction to the song had been one kind of humiliation, but this was deeper and more private. Simply put, he hated himself a little bit for having been so naive about what love was like.

Because he was in love now - he knew it for _real_ , and there was nothing soft focus about it. Kissing Kurt to ring in the new year had involved its own humiliations, given that they'd been in Kurt's parents' living room at the time. He'd counted on Burt and Carole's extended newlywed period to buy them a little time for the kiss, but when Kurt had pulled back and whispered "Happy New Year, Blaine" against his mouth, he'd licked his lips and flicked his eyes up to see Burt, Carole and Finn all trying very hard not to stare at them. Burt had looked up, _right at that moment_ , and Blaine still has no idea what he saw in his face that day, he only knows that Burt had made sure to walk with Kurt to the door every time he left for a full month after that. He'd let Kurt go outside to kiss him goodnight, but knowing that Burt had been on the other side of that door had put a damper on the proceedings.

Not that that mattered, really; there were plenty of other places they could go, and they did - as often as they could. Kurt's hands have always been beautiful to him - soft, capable, fine-boned - but the first night in the backseat of Blaine's car, when he had gone to lick the mingled come from his fingers, Blaine had almost lost it. He'd grabbed Kurt's wrist tightly, making a cuff of his own hand, and pulled those fingers over so he could share. Kurt, of course, had followed his hand back, and it had ended in a messy kiss and Blaine getting _so hard for him_ all over again. Now, sometimes, just for variety, he would watch Kurt pull himself off and then hold his hand by the wrist all over again and hold Kurt's eyes as he sucked the come from his fingers. The sheer _filthyness_ of all of it hit him hard in the gut. It wasn't romantic, it wasn't beautiful the way he thought of it - no balance or elegance of composition, nothing like what he thought of Kurt back when he was just beginning to _see_ him. It was edged and physical and desperate, and the idea that Kurt could see him like that, see him that hard and wanting and sort of falling apart, and still want to sweetly hold his hand as they walked together - it was like they had this private side to their relationship, and it didn't contradict who they were in public, it just bubbled under the surface and sort of colored everything they did with this glorious passion for each other. It was _real_.

He'd been thinking about all of that, the way Kurt's fingers felt in his mouth, the way he sometimes wanted to hold Kurt's wrist so tightly that he could feel the delicate bones slide together under his fingers, the way he wanted to claim him _so physically_ , when he'd chosen Kurt's Valentine's Day gift. Kurt liked things like brooches and scarves, but Blaine had never seen him wear another piece of jewelry, which made him both nervous and excited when he thought about the ID bracelet wrapped in layers of cotton and cardboard and brightly colored paper. He _liked_ the idea of being the exception that got to rest close to Kurt's skin.

\---

They finished dinner at Breadstix early, (a challenge all its own, since it seemed to be "our place" for every couple at McKinley High, and they'd ended up sharing a booth with Tina and Artie just to have a place to sit) and just as they were stepping out of the car in front of Kurt's house, he mentioned that his dad and Carole had a 9 pm reservation for dinner - his dad had forgotten to call until just that week, and the late seating was all they could manage. Finn was out with Rachel or Quinn or whichever of the two he was currently madly in love with, so the house would be theirs. Blaine went half-hard just at the sound of that, at the idea that within an hour or so he could be holding Kurt's wrist with his bracelet wrapped around it, sucking off his fingers and generally fellating the hell out of his hand. He didn't know why they hadn't taken the next obvious step yet, but they hadn't, and he wasn't about to push - Kurt had set the pace of their physical relationship so far, and he _liked_ that. And that - god, that would be _more_ than enough.

All he said, though, was, "That sounds... promising," but Kurt gave him a sexy smile and said, "doesn't it, though?" and took his hand to lead him into the house, giving Blaine just enough time to slip Kurt's gift from under his seat into his jacket pocket. They hurried to Kurt's bedroom and, after Kurt had locked his bedroom door behind him (which was against like 3 different rules, but they'd be better off getting in trouble for breaking the rules than having someone walk in on them), he just leaned against the door and watched Blaine sit on his bed. The scrutiny was unnerving; it was Valentine's Day, and they were alone in Kurt's house, and suddenly the pressure seemed amped up - _way_ up, like he couldn't breathe for wanting Kurt all of a sudden, and from the look on Kurt's face he thought it probably wasn't just him.

Kurt finally gave him a sardonic smile, and said, "Sooo, do you want your present?"

"You got me a present?" Blaine asked with a smile.

"Don't give me that, I saw you slip that package into your pocket. Exchange now?"

Blaine was suddenly nervous. "You go first."

"Open first, or give first?" Kurt responded, and it looked like Blaine wasn't the only one who was nervous - things hadn't been this complicated at Christmas.

Blaine just pulled the gift from his pocket and held it out. "Happy Valentine's Day, Kurt."

Kurt sat next to him on the bed and gently unfolded the paper, opened the box, and pulled out a slim, delicate, silver ID bracelet. "Oh, Blaine," he breathed. Blaine looked at it with him, even though he'd stared at what felt like 100 times. On the outside, the side the faced the world, was just the word "KURT", written in masculine block letters. On the inside, though, the part that would be worn against the skin (god, he hoped he would wear it) was a smaller Blaine in a flowing script - nothing super fancy, just smaller, delicate. Kurt's face was unreadable.

"I know it's really old-fashioned, and I've never really seen you wear jewelry, but I saw it, and I thought of you. It's a man's design, but it's not huge and bulky, and it should fit your frame well. And, just - it's like you: beautiful and a little ornate, but not tacky, and it should tell the world who you are. Because... you're Kurt. And that's important." And _oh my god_ he had stopped making any kind of sense, but Kurt's face was still a little frozen, and then he turned to Blaine and his smile just lit up the room.

"Blaine, I _absolutely love it_. It's perfect. Will you help me put it on?" and when he'd latched it around Kurt's wrist, he held it out and turned it to admire it from several angles, smiling and kissing Blaine and saying thank you.

Suddenly Kurt turned bashful, and he explained that he hadn't been expecting something as wonderful as jewelry and he wasn't sure his gift was nice enough, but after some cajoling he pulled it out and explained to Blaine that he had so much he wanted to say to him on their first Valentine's Day together and that for the first time, his ability to say it through shopping had failed him.

"But I bought you a coffee mug, to remind you that some cups of coffee _mean_ something, and that some things are durable and meant to last." The look in Kurt's eyes was so warm and sincere, and Blaine just melted - _god_ this boy is good to him, and he always knows the right thing to say.

It's only when he came to describing the lollipops that filled the mug, though, that he faltered.

"And- the other thing I wanted your gift to say was how much I... _appreciate_ the physical side of things."

And that was all he had to say, because it's not like he hadn't already thought about it, and all of a sudden the blood was rushing to Blaine's head and pounding in his ears. _Christ._ "Can I tell you a secret?" At Kurt's nod he continued. "Part of the thinking behind the ID bracelet was... I mean, I'm always holding your wrist when... when your fingers are in my mouth, and I just... I liked the idea of something permanent there to - to hold my place, I guess."

Kurt looked down at the bracelet and ran his finger over the surface again, dragging Blaine's hand to his wrist to form a second ring, right there atop the bracelet, and gave Blaine a look. He swallowed and nodded and said, "yeah, like that."

Kurt just looked at him and said, "I really want to blow you. Can I?"

And Blaine couldn't stand to be that far away from him anymore, and he leaned in to capture his lips in a heated kiss. Kurt shoved the wrapping paper off the bed and pulled him down until he was stretched over the top of Kurt, instantly going to his elbows and sliding his hands into Kurt's hair so that he could hold his head just right, because god, he had never wanted to kiss him as badly as he did right then. He was already hard, and he just wanted to push against him until he came in a wild rush, but there was an offer on the table and - oh.

He pulled back, resting on his elbows and peering down into Kurt's face, looking for any kind of hesitation, but there was nothing there. Kurt's face was serious, though, as he reached up and pushed some hair out of his eyes and said, "Really, Blaine. Can I?"

And Blaine dropped back down to moan, "god, _please_ " against his neck.

Kurt made a sound low in his throat and rolled them, coming up to straddle Blaine across the hips and start to work on the buttons of his shirt. "Oh my god, you already have chest hair," Kurt breathed.

Blaine laughed a little self-consciously and stared at Kurt's ceiling, keeping just the corner of his eye on his reaction. "Yeah. I mean, my dad is totally hairy - I think this is just the beginning. I don't - I mean, I know some guys don't -"

Kurt shook his head. "I never really cared for it before, but I have to say that this is totally working for me right now," and he proved it by following up with his fingers, sliding them across his pecs and then, peeking up to meet Blaine's eyes, down across his belly, to where there was another thin line of hair leading down from his belly button. Blaine's breath caught at that touch, because it was mostly exploratory but, the look in Kurt's eye was all about intent.

"Do you know how hard it was for me to figure out how to ask you that?" he said, conversationally, as he ran his fingers across Blaine's belly and dipped down to slide his lips along the same trail. Blaine just dropped his head to the bed and squeezed his eyes shut and _tried not to die_ at the sensation of Kurt's voice rumbling through the skin of his belly, the skin previously so untouched.

"No. No, you seemed to do okay," he gasped out. "Why, did you really think I'd say no?"

"Mmm, I wasn't sure. I just... I really wanted to make sure you didn't." Kurt had started working on the button to his pants, and this was old territory - he was a pro at getting them undone by now, but Blaine didn't think this was going to be a pulling-it-out kind of deal, he thought that Kurt might actually want to _pull them down_. He was proved right when Kurt lifted himself up and off his hips, and started tugging, and Blaine had to lift his butt to let Kurt slide them down. It was different than he was expecting, not at _all_ the same as just pulling out his dick, and he felt himself start to flush a little.

Kurt didn't even bother trying to pull them all the way off, he just got them around his knees and came back, lying pressed up against his side and rubbing one hand in long strokes from his neck, down his chest and abdomen, to skirt over his balls before doing the whole circuit all over again. "Amazing, Blaine. God, you look _amazing_." The bracelet was cold where it dragged against his skin, and Blaine moaned when it skimmed over a nipple. "Yeah," breathed Kurt. "I'm... I'm going to suck your cock now, okay?" and Blaine's hips bucked up because _god_. "But... just... try to hold still?" And his smile was tentative, a little scared, and Blaine had to reach up and cradle his cheek, because,

"I love you."

It wasn't the first time they'd said it, not at all, but it was the first time he'd said it while he was naked, and it had never felt more true.

"I know. Now shush, and let me try this."

And with that Kurt dipped down and let his tongue follow that line of hair down again, down to where the tip of his cock brushed against it, and then the head was engulfed in Kurt's warm, wet mouth and _god_ how was he going to last more than 30 seconds like this? He forced himself to go up to his elbows to watch, because Kurt Hummel getting his first taste of cock was not a moment to be missed, but all he could see was the top of his head as Kurt tried to work more and more into his mouth. Eventually Kurt pulled off and glanced up at him, smiling at the look on his face, and shifted so that his other hand could hold the base of Blaine's dick up so that he could work on it better.

From this angle, then, Blaine could see his dick disappearing into Kurt's mouth, and the _visual fucking porn_ of that, coupled with the wet and the heat, was just too much to take. He groaned and bucked up once, twice, until Kurt's free hand, the one with the bracelet wrapped around it, came up to lay across his hips and gently hold him down. He moaned again and, defenseless against everything Kurt was giving him, collapsed down to the pillows again and threw an arm over his face. Kurt set up a rhythm then, just simply bobbing up and down, never going very deep, but Blaine was already close, so _close_ , and he found himself babbling.

"Kurt, Kurt, oh my god, shit, Kurt -" and then Kurt did something different, swirled his tongue around the head just once, and Blaine was suddenly spilling into his mouth, groaning out loud at how the suction never faltered, just held him all the way through it, and _holy shit_ they were doing that again as soon as possible.

Kurt flopped down next to him and continued running his hands over his chest, playing with his chest hair, until he could peel the arm away from his eyes and peek.

"So I'd ask you if that was okay, but I think, 'Kurt, Kurt, oh my god, shit, Kurt' might be all the answer I need." Kurt's smile was a little smug, but after what he'd just done he could get away with that, and besides that it was also so _warm_ , so filled with affection and happiness.

"Yeah, it was all right," he said, just to get a reaction, and Kurt slapped at his shoulder and came down to kiss him. And oh god, that taste in Kurt's mouth always had done things to him, but now... now that he knew it was there _honestly_ , he couldn't get enough of it, so he grabbed at Kurt and pulled him fully on top of him. His clothes were rough against his skin, and Kurt had on a belt, with a _buckle_ , and so he tipped them quickly to the side.

"Hey, what was that?" Kurt asked, a little affronted at being dumped back on the bed so quickly.

"Belt buckle," Blaine gasped, looking down to make sure he was all still there.

"Ohhhh, shit, I'm sorry - I forgot about that," Kurt said, beginning to giggle, and Blaine would be irritated if he were actually over here bleeding, but he was fine, not even a scratch or anything, so he just looked at his boyfriend, his mouth red and open with laughter.

"It's fine," he said, leaning over to loom over him on the bed. "And, you know, there's a simple solution to that problem," he murmured into a kiss.

"To think that I thought that I'd have to seduce you with candy," Kurt mumbled, as Blaine's hands went to deal with that belt buckle without any further delay.


End file.
